


May I?

by LiesAndSlander



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:47:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiesAndSlander/pseuds/LiesAndSlander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He felt his neck strain at the near-impossible speed in which his head shot up, eyes widening as he watched pale blue eyes flutter open. Chapped lips moved.</p><p>“Daryl...?”</p><p>She was alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May I?

**Author's Note:**

> I will not speak of the last episode. I will not and I refuse. I can't even watch TWD anymore after it. And it's not even because of my undying love of Bethyl. I'm just so emotionally compromised that I had to write a fix-it story. My first in the Walking Dead fandom and, well, possibly my only.
> 
> Also, title is based off the song I was listening to while writing this: "May I" by Trading Yesterday.

He watched her fall to the ground in an almost dazed-like haze, blood raining and painting the group with the red life-liquid. There was just no way. No way possible that she was gone. He had _just_ gotten her back – finally had her _there_ , with _him_.

 _ **No**_.

Beth.

 _Beth_.

 _ **Beth**_.

“ _ **Beth**_!”

Daryl flinched awake, quickly shooting up from his sleeping position to take in deep breaths as he attempted not to hyperventilate, her name wavering on his lips. He tried to stay quiet for fear of waking up the group that surrounded the warm fire. But he was having a hard time focusing. It wasn't possible. She _couldn't_ be gone. Hadn't he lost enough? Dirty fingers clenched tightly into long hair as he tried to pull in air, tried to calm his uneasy heart.

“ _Daryl_?”

He whipped towards the sound of his name spoken softly. In his haste to try and forget the nightmare, he didn't even register the body curled up next to his, warm in the cold evening air. Crystal clear blue eyes looked up towards him, worry and curiosity in plain sight. He shuddered, those same eyes haunting his memories in a completely different way. Clothes rustled as the smaller body moved next to him, sitting up to wrap thin fingers around his upper arm.

“Are you okay?”

It was just a dream. A _nightmare_. It wasn't real. She was _here_. She wasn't _gone_.

Daryl shook his head, huffing out a breath and ignoring the sting in his eyes as he reached out to help the younger girl lie back down, taking his position next to her again. “'M fine. You should be resting.”

“You're _not_ fine, Daryl,” Beth said quietly, hand reaching out to grasp his cheek in her palm. “Your hands are shaking.”

“It's nothin', Beth,” he grunted out, reaching out to hold her hand with his own as it rested on his face, eyeing the bandage wrapped around her head. “Need to worry 'bout yourself. How's your head?”

“It's just a scratch.”

“Y' got grazed by a fuckin' _bullet_ , girl. That ain't just a scratch.”

“Daryl,” she started again, sky blue eyes taking him in. “I'm okay. I'm here.”

He just continued to stare at her, letting the silence take over the still air for a moment before replying. “Yeah, but ya almost weren't.”

_It had been chaotic, to say the least. They had only just gotten Beth back. Carol was there, too. Then that Dawn bitch was saying they couldn't leave with Noah. Something Beth refused to allow happen. Next thing he knew, Beth was pulling out a pair of scissors and stabbing the cop in the chest before a gunshot echoed in the hallway. He barely registered the fact that he screamed her name before whipping out his own gun and taking out the bitch with a shot between the eyes. It was then a scramble for weapons as everyone started an all out gun war. But he only had eyes for Beth. Beth, who was lying across the dirty floor, a bloody path trailing next to her long blonde locks._

_He wasn't someone you could exactly call graceful, but he had never felt more clumsy in his life then when he tripped over his own two feet in his rush to the young girl, ignoring Carol's pulling hand as she tried to stop him from seeing her. There was no way she had survived a gun to the head. There was just no way._

_Landing on his knees next to her – and ignoring everything around him as the gunfire stopped – he reached shaking hands for her as he brushed her hair out of her face. God, she was still just as beautiful in death as she was in life. He sat there on his hunches, his chin meeting his chest as he tried to ignore the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He couldn't do this – they had just gotten her back! He had just gotten her back. It wasn't supposed to end like this. She was too young. She was supposed to sing. She was supposed to laugh. She was supposed to see Judith grow. Watch her sister make babies and love them as if they were her own. Hell, she hadn't even had the chance to really love yet. He hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her again. To just... tell her everything. Anything. Just to hear her voice again._

_Then there was a slight groan._

_He felt his neck strain at the near-impossible speed in which his neck shot up, eyes widening as he watched pale blue eyes flutter open. Chapped lips moved._

_“Daryl...?”_

_She was **alive**._

The blonde gave him a soft smile, pulling her hand from his face and grasping onto his with a gentle, warm grip. She kept it cradled to her chest just over her heart as his mind wandered away from his memories. It took a bit in him to fight the blush that was surely spreading from where his hand rested. “I'm not going _anywhere_. Just got me back, after all.”

He didn't say anything – in truth, didn't have much to say at that exact moment – and instead just lied there, watching her. Keeping her in his sights. Something he swore he would do until his last breath.

“Daryl?”

The hunter shook himself out of his trance, blinking deep blue eyes as he took in her pale features, her own blue eyes looking so wide and still innocent. She was all that was good left in the world. Without her, there was _nothing_. No hope. No love. No light at the end of the tunnel. Just darkness.

“Beth, I...”

She nodded encouragingly, letting him work out his emotions for a second time that evening.

“I just... I _can't_ lose you,” he finally sputtered out, keeping a tight hold on her hand, almost painfully so. But she didn't seem to mind as she held on back just as tight, that small smile coming back to her face easily.

“You haven't lost me. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.”

He took in a deep breath once more, gulping quite forcefully as he pulled his hand from hers - ignoring the look of hurt that crossed her face momentarily - before wrapping his arm around her shoulders, drawing her front to his own. He felt her quick intake of breath, that small moment of tenseness, before she relaxed and let herself rest against him.

"I need you here with me."

“I _am_ here, baby,” she cooed softly, the term of endearment seeming to fall easily from her lips as wiggled her way even closer to him. She threw her arm around his waist, keeping her injured and still wrapped one between them. She repeated herself once more. “I'm not gonna go anywhere.”

He nodded, his own arm tightening around her as his lips grazed her forehead. It wasn't quite a kiss so much as the touching of skin. But it was there. She was there. And he would go through Hell and back to keep her with him.

“You were right,” he spoke quietly into her hair, pausing for a moment as she made a questioning sound in the back of her throat. “I missed you _so bad_ while you were gone, Beth Greene.”


End file.
